First Evangelical Free Church Sioux City, Iowa

Why We Worship on Sunday

A timely quote from Tim Challies:

"Every Easter Saturday, that day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, I find myself pondering what it must have been like for Jesus' followers on that day. What did they do? What were they thinking? How did they spend their day? What thoughts were running through their heads? Their leader was dead; their Messiah had been arrested, beaten, crucified, killed, buried. Miracles had attended his suffering--darkness and earthquake--and yet still he was dead. Confusion must have reigned. Bewilderment.

It's no wonder that Christians worship on Sunday. Muslims worship on Friday, Jews worship on Saturday, but Christians worship on Sunday because that is the day when Christ proved that he had conquered death. This is why we are Sunday Christians. We are not Friday Christians who serve a dead Savior, not Saturday Christians still waiting and wondering, but Sunday Christians who serve a living, breathing Savior--one who is alive and one who reigns. He died because he had to die. Our sin demanded blood and death. And yet he rose because he had to rise. He was the Son of God; how could death hold him? How could the Creator of all that exists be held down by death? It cannot happen and it did not happen. Christ is risen."

He has risen indeed!

A Parable of God’s Love

In the spirit of the parables that we are working our way through in Matthew, I wanted to share a modern-day "parable" from the book The Joy of Calvinism (p.109-111) which I found to be extremely helpful in my understanding of how God's love is greater than our sin...

Once upon a time, a young man met a young woman, and the two of them fell in love. After a giddy and exciting courtship, brimming with anticipation, the young man resolved to ask the young woman to marry him. He spoke to her father, acquired the ring, planned out the most romantic possible setting for the proposal, and invited her to meet him there.

Now the young woman studied chemistry. Being intelligent and spirited, she was of a curious nature. On the morning of the day on which the young man was planning to propose marriage, she was visiting a pharmaceutical plant to learn about its processes. Succumbing to temptation, she tampered with the machines in her desire to learn more about them, and she was exposed to a toxic chemical. She was immediately thrown into a state of deranged madness. She hated everyone in the world, most especially the young man who loved her.

Later that day, when the young man asked her, "Will you marry me?" she denounced him in a rage of cursing and swearing such as no one in that town had ever heard. She was brought in for treatment, but the doctors couldn't help her. They pronounced her condition irreversible and untreatable.

Her madness grew worse, until she would physically attack anyone who even approached her. Before long she was confined to an asylum, kept in restraints at all times. There she lay for years and years, strapped to her gurney, endlessly raging and cursing against the world.

Now the young man was like the young woman, intelligent and spirited. He dropped out of law school to study medicine, becoming a doctor. Working night and day for years, at long last he discovered a way to cure her condition.

From the instant he entered her cell, she screamed imprecations at him more horrible than any she had uttered in all her long years of madness. When they removed her arm restraint to administer the injection, she seized the front of his throat and plunged her fingernails in as deeply as she could. In her insanity, she wanted to tear out his larynx and eat it. The orderlies pulled her arm away, but his five wounds were deep, and they never fully healed.

As he administered the injection, she began screaming "No!" over and over. She continued screaming it after he left, until she had screamed it 666 times. But the treatment worked, and when she woke up the next day, she came to herself. When he walked into her cell to see how it was with her, she cried out "Yes!" They wept. As they embraced, she began saying "Yes!" over and over, until she had said it seven times seventy times.

He nursed her back to health, their amazing story spread to international fame, and they were at long last married in a ceremony that captured the attention of the entire world. When the minister had pronounced them man and wife, the husband leaned in to kiss her, and she whispered, "Thank you that your love was stronger than my hate."

A wonderful story isn't it? The sort of thing that might bring tears to the eyes and could be made into a best-selling romance movie. We love stories of love that are this strong and powerful.

At the same time - and maybe you've figured it out by now - this is a parable of the Gospel. The man is Jesus. The woman is the bride of Christ (i.e. the church). Her disease is called sin and the solution comes only from Jesus. Note especially how much she loves her sin - so much so that she will not willingly seek the cure. And note also how Jesus works - even against what the woman thinks is her will. The wedding is that which is pictured in the Bible at the end of time.

A question then: why are we so afraid of God's love for us? In some ways, this is the point that author Greg Forster is making: we would see this as wonderful were it to be a true story of love between two human beings. So why then do we see it differently when it is God loving humanity? Why do we get all wrapped up in ideas of our freedom and "free will" to the exclusion of our ideas about God's glory and how He desires, knows, and will do what is absolutely best for those who make up the church?

Some deep thoughts to ponder at the beginning of a week which should be filled with deep thinking about Christ and the cross...

A Man You Should Know: J. C. Ryle

I just recently finished a wonderfully written biography of J. C. Ryle who was the Bishop of Liverpool England just before the turn of the century (i.e. late 1800's). Here is the story of a man who never set out to serve God in full-time ministry and yet ended up laboring faithfully for over six decades of his life in varying positions throughout the Church of England. And while that last part may give us pause, we must also realize that Ryle was thoroughly evangelical and sought to reform the church from within. His efforts have produced good spiritual fruit even until the present day and we should thank God for such a "man of granite with the heart of a child" (or, to use the same phrase that John Piper quoted at the recent Pastor's Conference: "The Frank and Manly Mr. Ryle."

I would encourage you to read biography, especially Christian biography and there is little better place to start than with J. C. Ryle...

If you would like a book length treatment, I would heartily recommend "J. C. Ryle" by Eric Russell (Amazon).

Perhaps you would rather dip your toe into Ryle as opposed to diving in headfirst. If that describes you, then I would direct you to John Piper's biography of him which is available for free in written, audio, and video forms here.

Lastly, if you have joined us on Sunday mornings or listened to our sermon podcast, you may have caught occasional references from Ryle. For our Matthew series, one great resource that I can recommend (and which was written for everyday men and women in a very readable format) is Ryle's Expository Thoughts on Matthew (Amazon).

Risk and Success

We live in a society that minimizes risk. We like to be (or at at least think we are) in control. A person can purchase insurance for nearly anything under the sun and there are umbrella policies that cover most everything else. There are entire divisions within major companies dedicated to "risk management" and college degrees to equip such folks. But what if risk can, at times, serve a good role?

Why do I say all this - is it because I don't believe in insurance? Certainly not! No, wisely carrying the correct insurance policies is certainly a good thing. Then why? I say this because I am becoming increasingly concerned that our risk-averse, "we can't do _____ because of the risk involved" culture is having a detrimental effect both on the church and on individual Christians.

As individuals, we often think in terms of risk though we rarely would recognize it as such or call it so. When I plan a complicated church service I sometimes think in terms of "what should I do if something goes wrong?" At times in my life I have made decisions based upon asking myself "what is the safest way to do this?" whether "safe" here means physical risk or simply the risk of embarrassment. I suspect that if you are honest, dear reader, then you too can easily picture yourself in such situations.

As churches, our individual thinking moves upward to the congregational level in which all of the questions and concerns that we have individually affect our decision-making corporately. "What if we fail?" becomes an all too common question asked during planning sessions and it's a fine question to ask, but it also shouldn't be a conversation-stopping question. "What if this new idea doesn't work - how will we ever get that money back?" is another question that often springs to mind when evaluating a ministry proposal that might be otherwise brilliant and sound. But what if the thought moved in a different direction? Perhaps it is worth trying even though success cannot be guaranteed?

On the one hand, we cannot mitigate all risk. It simply isn't possible because we are not God. And that's the first point I'd like to make - while there is wisdom in assessing risk and considering what is acceptable and what is not, we must also learn to lean upon and trust God. He is in control, not us. He knows what will happen, we don't (here's an interesting study - use a Bible concordance or the internet and look up how many times "be not afraid" and similar phrases appear in the Scriptures - perhaps you will be shocked as I was to see how fearful and untrusting of a people we often are and yet how faithful, tender, and firm our God is).

On the other hand, taking risks can become something of a spiritual idol - "Look at us - we don't worry about anything! Let's not ask questions or evaluate - let's just go for it!" As if not planning is somehow more spiritual than taking the time to consider how best to serve (think Proverbs 15:22 here)!

Where can faithfulness be found, then?

Faithfulness is found in taking calculated, God-honoring risks that are necessary for ministry but no more risky than needed.

What this means is that sometimes (perhaps more often than we are comfortable with) we are called to take risks as Christians. Normally, this isn't so much risk to life and limb as it is risk to our personal ego and to our reputation: "Do I go talk to that person about my faith - what if they reject me?" Indeed, what if? But then again, you carry the greatest and most hope-filled message that anybody could ever hear - isn't that worth the risk to deliver? "What if our church tries a new ministry and fails?" What if? It isn't the end of the world. Nobody will perish. God isn't displeased with you. He may actually use that failure to accomplish something far greater - but only if you take the risk.

As was once said in the movie The Trueman Show, "I've got a what if..."

What if our getting outside of our comfort zones is exactly what God will use to grow and mature us?

What if we need to fail so that we can learn to trust?

What if God would use our failures for His glory?

What if our failures would lead to something so wonderful and joyful that they turn to successes even larger than we could have dreamed of had we played it safe?

Think to Christ - He took many risks. He spoke with people who hated Him. He healed folks knowing full well that He was being watched and that rumors would swirl about. Eventually, He pays for all of this with His very life. From a human standpoint, Christ took a terrible risk and lost. He failed.

But from a spiritual standpoint, Christ gained everything by that well-calculated and loving risk. Because Christ didn't stay dead - no He rose from the grave. If that's not a definition of success, then I'm not sure what is. God is truly in control and what we risk for God is so much less costly than the grace He has already given to us.

I'm reading a fascinating book right now called "Wilderness Mountaineering" in which the author notes that when climbing a mountain the tendency is to lean as close to the rock as possible. And yet - ironically - this is exactly the wrong thing to do because it removes all leverage and friction that your feet have on the rock thus causing you to slip and fall. On the other side, leaning too far from the rock carries obvious consequences as well. What does safety look like? It looks like a fine balance between too close and too far.

What about you? Take inventory this week and ask yourself how your trust in God reflects your actions day to day. Do you avoid risk at all costs? Then perhaps it is time to move a little further from the rock. Are you a risk-taker who carelessly jumps off the ledge? Then perhaps it is time to consider your plans a bit more and lean in a little bit. In all cases, we must learn to take careful risks so that we will be found faithful to our calling to "go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation." (Mark 16:15)

(See also where I've written on this topic before...)